


Giving Chase

by wook77



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: M/M, Yuletide 2011
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-25
Updated: 2011-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-28 02:11:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/302598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wook77/pseuds/wook77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Gudada trusted the wrong man in Constantinople, little did he know that he would meet Yusuf Tazim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Giving Chase

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mjules](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjules/gifts).



> mjules, When you asked for a fic featuring Yusuf with a Roma man, I couldn't resist. I had originally intended this to be much briefer and then I'd intended it to be much longer. I hope that it satisfies with the current length.

As Gudada ran down the streets of Constantinople, desperately trying to reach the Romani encampment and the safety that it promised, he cursed himself for his stupidity. He was stupid to have trusted, stupid to have gone so far from his people, stupid to have believed, stupid to have wanted. He was just so stupid and, now, that stupidity was going to be what got him killed if his pursuers had anything to do with it.

If he lived, he vowed to every benevolent god he could think of, if he lived, he would be less belligerent, more caring. He would respect his parents more. He would learn to dance well, even if it killed him. He wouldn't trust outsiders so much. He'd get better at trading and help his people more he would –

He would learn to look at where he was going and get out of his head because he'd just crashed into a bearded man who did not look pleased. Muttering apologies, he pushed off the ground and took off running once more, his breath leaving him and refusing to come back as he tried, so desperately, to get back to his people who would defend him from the guards currently chasing after him. An arrow flew past his face, close enough that he could feel the fletchings tickle his ear.

As he darted around the corner of a building, he heard a loud crash but didn't stop running. Hopefully the guards had fallen into one of the vendor stalls and been delayed enough to let him slow slightly and try to catch his breath. When he could run no further, he found a small alcove and pushed himself deep into it, praying that the shadows would hide him long enough that he could breathe and continue along the way. Just in case, however, he pulled out his knife and readied himself.

A man landing in front of him, falling from the rooftops above, quickly disabused him of that notion. "Normally, it is considered polite that when one knocks down another, to excuse themselves before taking off, perhaps even checking to see how the victim is doing."

Gudada took in many things about the man as he straightened in surprise. The bearded man from earlier was well-armed and obviously knew how to use the weapons strapped to his back and waist. Not only that, but he had wild hair and an affinity for scarves. Then there was his face, strong and free, like the rest of him, the parts not quite going together. His stare was intense as he looked at Gudada hiding in the alcove. If he were here to kill Gudada, then, well, Gudada would face it head-on. He was too tired and too out of breath for any more running.

"My apologies for the offense. I was a bit busy running for my life but I should've taken more care with my surroundings." Gudada stepped out of the shadows and sketched a quick bow. "You are all right?"

"You may buy me a drink to show me how much you are sorry for attempting to knock me over. Come," the man said, waving his hand as he turned on his heel and walked towards the alley's entrance onto the main thoroughfare.

"Did you not hear the part about my running for my life? I cannot buy you a drink as I'm being pursued by the guards."

"You were being pursued by the guards. They are no longer a concern. Come, let us drink and you can tell me what you did to annoy the Janissaries so much, not that it takes much to annoy them. Personally, I think that the wind changing annoys them enough to kill but they seemed particularly intent on you."

"Who are you?" Gudada asked, completely mystified at the stranger's audacity and attitude. He'd never seen the like.

"I am Yusuf Tazim, the man that just saved your life but you may call me 'Yusuf'. Great Savior is so cumbersome, isn't it?" Yusuf walked further towards the entrance of the alley before turning on his heel once more, "Are you going to buy me that drink?"

Gudada only shook his head and followed in Yusuf's wake, sheathing his knife as he did so. By the time he caught up to Yusuf, they were in front of a tavern. His heart had, thankfully, stopped pounding and his breathing had returned to normal so that he didn't sound as if he were panting after Yusuf. Yusuf held the door open for him, forcing him to turn his back on the dangerous man. Figuring that Yusuf could've killed him in the alley rather than in the entrance to a tavern off the busy main thoroughfare for this area, Gudada thanked him for his kindness and walked in. Finding a table near the back, Gudada led the way and situated himself so that his back wasn't to the room. Either Yusuf would choose to sit next to him, not turning his back to the room, either, or he would sit across from him. Either way, Gudada would have a good view.

"So, tell me your story," Yusuf said as he sat down beside Gudada, gesturing the waitress over. Rather than listening, though, Gudada stared at Yusuf's hands, watching the way the fingers bent and swayed as if they were dancers. Yusuf's hands were so graceful that, even as one hand appeared in front of his face to wave at him, Gudada didn't notice. "Has all that running addled your brain?"

"What? Oh, no, no. Sorry," Gudada stumbled over his words. "Your hands dance with the same grace as my sister."

Yusuf's laugh transformed his face as he laughed loud enough to draw the eyes of the tavern inhabitants towards them. His face had been remarkable before but, with that smile on his face, everything fit together perfectly. Gudada would be quite content to see Yusuf smiling at him forever. "I have received many compliments, my friend, but never one quite like that."

"Then you shall remember me." The words slipped out without permission, giving life to the secret thoughts he'd been supressing, the ones that would get him killed.

"Then you should give me your name so that I would have that to go along with your remarkable compliments."

"You may call me Gudada."

"Gudada," Yusuf repeated his name, acting as if it were a fine glass of wine and he was savoring the feel of it on his tongue. Gudada stared at his face, watching the way that expressions flitted across it as he tried out Gudada's name. "A remarkable name to go along with a remarkable man."

Surely Yusuf wasn't speaking of him. Gudada was many things but 'remarkable' was not one of them. Stupid? Yes. Trusting? Yes. Naïve? Yes. Slow? Yes. Accident-prone? Definitely yes. But remarkable? Certainly not.

Their spiced wine appeared in front of them and Gudada reached into the bag of coins that, luckily, had remained on his waist throughout his run and paid the server before turning to Yusuf and saying, "I would rather hear why you would help me when you knew nothing about me other than that I had knocked into you."

"That is a story for another time. It's your turn to tell me a story. Make it good enough and I'll get the next round."

So Gudada told Yusuf about the trading and the way that their goods had been stolen. He told Yusuf how trusting and foolish he had been when he'd gone alone to meet an informant that promised to help him retrieve his people's stolen goods. He told him about the men that had come out of nowhere and the frantic run he'd made. There were very few Romani stereotypes that he fit, Gudada couldn't dance, couldn't breathe fire and nor could he sing, but he was good at storytelling and, by the end of his tale of woe, Yusuf had not only bought the next round but the round after that and then another one after that. "And so I never did retrieve the goods. They are somewhere in the city and my people, yet again, lose out."

"The Janissaries are vicious beasts that masquerade as men." Yusuf coupled it with a severe nod of his head and then ruined it with a smile. "You are lucky to have escaped with your life."

"I was lucky to have bumped into you. Perhaps I should take my apology back."

"Luck indeed. Luck to you, my friend, luck to you. I should be on my way. Thank you for the story and the drink." Yusuf stood, sketching a quick bow.

"I thank you for my life and the drinks that came after." Gudada stood and sketched his own bow, much less graceful, and then clasped the outstretched hand. Perhaps he held on to it a bit too long but he wanted that contact, wanted to feel those graceful, dancing hands within his own for just a second, damn whatever society said.

Yusuf merely nodded his head and then left the tavern. Gudada felt abandoned, lost without the humor of the man that had just left but then, shaking his head at his fancy, left to return to the encampment. Still, he couldn't stop looking down each of the alleys and at the rooftops to see if he could spot Yusuf one last time.

It was a pattern that he followed for weeks after the attack. He had no idea that he would wake up to Yusuf (and in the midst of a dream about the man) and all of this would prove unnecessary. "You sleep like the dead."

Gudada would like to pretend that he made some sort of witty comeback but he'd been sound asleep and, rather than 'what are you doing here' or even 'how did you get in to my rooms', he muttered something unintelligble, tugging at his blankets and wondering if he were fully covered or if he'd said or done sometime embarrassing. Had he been moaning Yusuf's name in his sleep?

"I have a gift for you."

"It is the middle of the night."

"Of course it is. It's the best time to give gifts, didn't you know that?" Yusuf laughed, his laugh loud enough to seem to echo in the small bedroom. "Come, see what I have brought you."

"Let me get dressed."

"You don't have to worry about that on my account," Yusuf said, smiling and letting the silence build for a second before continuing, "but if you must, you must."

What did that even mean? Gudada couldn't figure it out, he was far too sleepy and distracted by that wicked grin and those amazing hands that caught the occasional flash of light from outside the window where the Romani encampment was still lit. It was fascinating, like catching sight of a butterfly as it flitted from flower to flower or seeing the glint of a coin as it spun through the air.

"You don't like gifts?" Yusuf was cocking his head to the side, looking confused and intrigued. A half-smile formed on his face, one side of his face clearly lit while the other was shadowed.

"I love gifts but you're in my bedroom, it's late at night and I'm sleepy. My brain obviously needs a few moments to keep up with you."

"Come, my friend, my gift is downstairs. I'll allow you to protect your virtue from me and meet you downstairs." Yusuf flashed a grin and then disappeared out the window. What in all that was… did he just go out the window?

Scrambling out of bed, Gudada hurried to the window only to see Yusuf standing down in the courtyard, waving a hand at him to hurry. He dressed in record speed, barely taking the time to pull on trousers and a shirt that hung open halfway down his chest, as he hurried downstairs. Yusuf was standing next to a large pile of crates and boxes.

"Those are…" his voice trailed off as he took in his stolen goods he'd given up on ever retrieving.

"For you, my friend."

"How?"

"That is a story for another day," Yusuf said, stepping forward to embrace him. "Perhaps you might be interested in that story one day but, for now, be careful with who you trade. If you suspect someone might be taking advantage of you, simply send me word and I will find out for you. Deal?"

Gudada wanted to ask why or how or even what where when how _why_ but he couldn't find the words before Yusuf walked out the door. A note fluttered to the ground and, when Gudada retrieved it, he saw that there were instructions on which vendors in the market to contact should Gudada need Yusuf. He couldn't help holding the note to his nose to smell Yusuf's spicy scent nor could he help hugging it to his chest as he hugged himself.

It goes like that for months, Yusuf randomly showing up in the middle of the night or somehow finding Gudada on the street and inviting him to a tavern for a drink. It was a game between them, Yusuf keeping Gudada wondering when he would see him next, as Gudada traded his people's goods and worked to secure their future until Yusuf started asking about whether or not Gudada would introduce him to the Romani leaders. He hesitated at it, not sure why Yusuf wanted to meet them and if it would be beneficial for his people.

When he said as much, Yusuf disappeared for over a month. Gudada felt the loss keenly, wondering how he could fix it. He sent notes via the vendors in the Grand Bazaar and even the smaller vendors in the outlying parts of town. Yusuf didn't answer any of his messages, didn't slip into his room or find him in their tavern. He missed Yusuf's grin and his teasing, his irreverant look at the world, his protectiveness and his witticisms. He missed Yusuf's hands, their speed and grace, as they juggled knives or tried to show Gudada how to better defend himself. He just missed Yusuf.

As he walked towards the Bazaar once more to try to contact Yusuf after two months of silence, he heard a scuffle down an alley. Stupidly, he started down the darkened street until he saw Yusuf fighting with four men. This time, Yusuf's grace was deadly instead of merely fascinating. He thought to launch himself into the fray until Yusuf looked up and saw him, shaking his head and holding up a hand as he dodged the blades of the other men, before turning the hand and slipping a knife from on his back and stabbing the man in the chest. Another graceful move, as Yusuf lowered himself towards the ground and swung out a leg, brought one of the other men to his knees where Yusuf sliced his throat and then quickly swung his blade backwards, gutting the man sneaking up behind him. As Gudada's cock hardened in his trousers at the grace he was witnessing, the fourth took off running but Yusuf turned the knife in his hand and threw it, killing him instantly.

Gudada was both fascinated and appalled because what sort of man was turned on by the violence he'd just seen? He couldn't help it, though. This was more than just watching Yusuf's hands dance, this was seeing all of that grace in action and he wanted those hands on him, wanted those legs entwined with his as they moved and rutted on a bed or even a table. Against a door. It didn't matter, he wanted Yusuf's grace on him.

"Are you well?" Yusuf asked, stepping over one of the dead men to run a hand over Gudada's cheek and down his face before skimming over his shoulder and across his arm. "You are not hurt?"

"I am not hurt." Gudada breathed deeply, pulling in the scent of Yusuf before reaching a hand out to mirror Yusuf's gesture. "You are well? Unhurt?"

"I am fine. This is part of that story that I did not want to tell you. You do not need to know this about me."

"I want to know everything about you," Gududa said as his hand finished sliding down Yusuf's arm to grab his wrist and squeeze it.

"Gudada," Yusuf breathed out as he turned his hand to clasp Gudada's. "Gudada."

"Yusuf." Gudada felt like a mimic but he couldn't think about anything other than Yusuf's sweaty, bloody hand against his, the warmth of palm to palm and the way that what he had never envisioned being returned was, suddenly, surrounding him as Yusuf's other hand came up to cup his cheek as Yusuf cocked his head to the side.

"You do not trust me and I understand that – "

"I trust you. It is the leaders that I do not trust, not enough to not try to take advantage of your good nature."

Yusuf chuckled at him. "My friend, if you knew me, you would not dare claim that I have a good nature."

"I know you and that's why I say you have a good nature. You saved me as a complete stranger and then you brought me my goods back with nothing to gain from it. You are a good man."

"I had many things to gain from it. For example, I got to see you in your bedroom." Yusuf chuckled again. "I did not think that this…"

"I did not either," Gudada said as his free hand reached up and touched Yusuf's where it rested against his cheek. It was a simple touch but it somehow spurred Yusuf into leaning forward, brushing his lips against Gudada's. Another quick brush of lips and then Yusuf straightened, driving Gudada to lean forward to chase his lips as Gudada's tongue darted out to taste Yusuf on his skin.

"Come, before more guards come, we should leave." Yusuf tugged him deeper into the alleyway. "I know a way out of here and a place where we can continue this discussion, if you're interested. Catch me, Gudada!"

Yusuf let go and then took off running. This time, as Gudada ran, he felt free and hopeful, his heart raced in his ears and pounded out a song of _catch me catch me catch me_ that Gudada had to obey. He knew he wouldn't catch Yusuf unless Yusuf allowed it. By the time he caught up to Yusuf, he was standing in front of a building, the door partially open. Yusuf grinned at him and then gestured him into the building. Helpless to resist, Gudada followed, into the building and past a variety of cloaked men and women then up stairs, weaving through hallways and more stairs before he reached a room where Yusuf stood.

When he entered, he saw that they were in a bedroom. Turning, he saw Yusuf shut the door carefully, pulling a latch shut and then leaning against the door with a secretive smile on his face. Gudada had thought he'd seen all of Yusuf's smiles and he'd decided that Yusuf's teasing smile, the one he got just after he said something outrageous, was his favorite but this one was much more alluring, bringing back his erection. Yusuf waved him closer and Gudada obeyed, leaning his chest against Yusuf's. "If this is a dream, pray do not wake me."

"No dream. I have wanted this since you stumbled into me and looked up at me, fear and belligerance in your eyes. That you confronted me with a knife rather than cowering impressed me. Someday, I will tell you everything but for now, I need a taste of your mouth." Yusuf threaded his hands into Gudada's hair and tugged him up until their lips met. That brief taste before hadn't prepared Gudada for the overwhelming need that he felt swamp him as their tongues touched one another's for the first time. He wasn't at all prepared for the onslaught of need and want and have to have and right now as his hands clutched at Yusuf's hair before tugging at his scarf and then fumbling with Yusuf's armor.

"Need your skin," Yusuf muttered against his lips as he stripped Gudada before pushing him backwards, towards the bed. "Let me undo these, it will go faster."

"A show? For me?" Gudada echoed Yusuf's grin, his hand straying to tug at his cock while he backed up towards the bed, feeling the bump of it against his knees. "Well, then, who am I to turn down this sort of show?"

"Shall I dance for you?"

"Later. Strip and touch me, please touch me so that if I wake, I will have the memory of your touch to keep me going."

"There are things that we should talk about, things that you should know," Yusuf said as he stripped his armor from his shoulders and then yanked his shirt over his head, baring his hair-covered chest to Gudada's vision.

"I know that you are an Assassin. You have brought me to one of your Dens and I must not tell anyone about it, right?"

"There is more – "

"I do not care. Touch me, hurry or I shall finish myself off just seeing your chest." Gudada pulled on his cock. "Or do you not want to touch me, now? Perhaps you merely wanted to see if I was inclined this way and now you shall kill me, eliminate me in a drawn out assassination attempt?"

"Never. If I had my way, no one would touch you again. No one will ever harm you or steal from you again." Yusuf finished stripping and then pushed Gudada back on the bed, covering his body and denying him more than a brief glimpse of Yusuf's bare skin. He didn't have a chance to protest not seeing more because Yusuf's hands were on his face and over his chest while his lips devoured Gudada's and their cocks rubbed against one another. It was amazingly soft from what he'd thought Yusuf might be like in bed, Yusuf seeking out his approval before moving his hand and repeating what made him moan or arch. In the end, all Gudada could do was rub his hands across Yusuf's back and dig his heels into Yusuf's ass or his thighs as he came, feeling the warm proof spread between them.

Aftewards, after Yusuf had cleaned them both off and then taken him into his arms, Gudada curled into Yusuf's embrace. "Did you mean it?"

"I meant it. There is a man coming, from Italy. They call him 'The Mentor', Ezio Auditore da something or other and he is looking for something. I have to help him." Yusuf traced patterns on Gudada's back, tickling and turning him on in turns.

"Do not disappear on me for months again. I need to see you." Gudada kissed Yusuf's chest, pressing his lips firmly against that amazingly warm skin as he spoke.

"Never, not if I can help it."

"Good. I would hate to lose you now that I've found you."

"It was I that found you or did you forget that?" Yusuf chuckled, his breath ruffling Gudada's hair.

"It was I that stumbled into you. I think that means that I found you."

"True." Yusuf's fingers carded through Gudada's hair and he found himself content in the moment.

"This Mentor, he…" Gudada couldn't figure out how to put his fears into words.

"He is a good man and I am a good Assassin."

"You are a good man."

"As you say."


End file.
